


So...Move in with me?

by PM_Writes



Series: Rookie cop meets lovable idiot [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancer Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, Fluff, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kissing, Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boyfriend, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together, Non-Explicit Sex, Personal Growth, Police Officer Keith (Voltron), Reunions, Soft Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:59:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16978467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PM_Writes/pseuds/PM_Writes
Summary: The airport is quiet at 4:30 in the morning. Lance's suitcase drags behind him and Keith squeezes his hand tight. This will be the first time they’ve been apart for more than a week. And right after Keith’s moved in. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, trying to clamp down on the emerging loneliness in his chest.“Hey.” Lance steps into his space, taking his chin in his fingertips and lifting his gaze. “I won’t be gone long.”Keith grips his wrist. “I know.”





	So...Move in with me?

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy!
> 
> Sorry this took so long, fam. This one has actually been done for a while and we meant to post it like two weeks ago but finals hit like a train. But 'tis here at last, so enjoy. 
> 
> Happy reading,  
> P and M

Keith drops the last box on the counter with a huff. He doesn’t have all that much: a basic wardrobe, some trinkets from Shiro, a few well-worn books (he secretly loves cliché young adult novels), and some personal supplies. His phone buzzes in his pocket with a text from Shiro.

5:23  _ Hey. Adam wants to know if we should convert your old room into a sex dungeon. Thoughts? _

5:23  _ Plz. You need to have sex to warrant a sex dungeon. _

5:24  _ We have sex, Keith. We’re adults. Who do that. _

5:25  _ No ur tired old men who just sleep. _

His phone buzzes again but Keith absolutely does not want to keep discussing his brother’s sex life, so he ignores it. The wedding is in a few months and Shiro will have plenty of time to be gross with Adam then. He leaves the box to deal with later and meanders into Lance’s – no, _their_ _–_ living room. He pauses in the doorframe, watching Lance absently shuffle through ballet positions as he chews on his pencil. The room is strung up with fairy lights, and the glow bounces off his cheek nicely. He stares intently at his notepad with choreography notes scribbled in the lines. The same song has been playing loudly on repeat for the last two hours. Keith will need to get used to that, living with a dancer and all.

A  _ finely sculpted _ dancer.

Lance finally notices him and cranks down the volume, tossing his notepad onto the coffee table. “Was that the last box?’

“Yeah. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Keith takes his usual spot on the right side of the sofa, peering at Lance’s notes and loopy handwriting. Lance picks Blue up from her perch on the armrest and settles her into his lap. Keith reaches for the paper curiously.  “What’s this one for?”

“Ah, my advanced level class. They’re getting pretty good so I gotta step up.”

“Pun?” Keith side-eyes him.

Lance grins. “Unintentional.” Keith doesn’t believe him for a second. 

Blue starts purring and they settle into a pleasant quiet. In truth, Keith has been halfway moved in for about a week, but today was the last box and that makes it official. He signed the lease and everything. His lips twitch upwards when Lance’s socked foot prods at his knee. 

“So.”

“So.”

“You live here now.”

“Yup.”

“Whaddya wanna do to celebrate?”

They order take-out and sit together on the floor while a bad crime drama plays in the background because Lance knows that Keith hates them. Keith retaliates by eating Lance’s last egg roll. 

At some point, Keith checks his phone and sees Shiro’s last text.

5:26 _ You’re starting to text like him. “Ur?” “Plz?” _

Keith chuckles. 

“What is it?” Lance asks, sauce smudged on his lip. 

Keith flings a napkin at him. “Adam wants to convert my old room into a sex dungeon.”

Lance snorts. “Well now we have to get one too.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m oodles of fun,” Keith deadpans. 

Lance waggles his eyebrows and gets that stupid look on his face that makes Keith feel all gooey and disgusting with feelings. “Prove it. Have fun. Right now. I dare you.”  

“No.”

“Why not!?”

“I’m tired.” 

“Aw, c’mon,” he pleads. Keith doesn’t budge. “Cariño?” Keith’s eye twitches. Lance smirks and leans closer, pressed against his side, and takes a deep breath. Oh no. “ _ Sweetheart? _ ”

Godammit that one always gets him. Lance only needs to press a chaste kiss to his temple to seal his victory. Keith deflates, but at least manages to cast a withering glare. “Fine. But you’re gonna regret it.” He stands up and puts their take-out boxes on the kitchen counter. Lance comes up behind him and presses a giddy kiss to the back of his head. He takes Keith by the elbow and leads him to the bedroom.

 

…

 

Ten minutes later they’re both panting and sweating on the bed. Lance lunges hard at Keith, who rolls off the edge to avoid the attack. His pillow thwacks harmlessly on the mattress. Keith counters, knocking him upside the head with one of the smaller throw pillows and hollering his war cry.

“C’mon, McClain! That all you got!?”

“Hell no! Have you met my niece? Y’aint shit, Keith! Get back here!”

 

…

 

Eventually, they do get to the sex part. Keith secretly loves baiting Lance into their wild shenanigans - pillow fights, arm wrestling, Twister - whatever. They both always get really into the competition. It’s a fun and rowdy time, and Keith, believe it or not, loves fun. He’s just more discreet about his goofball tendencies. 

But then they’ll be tired and panting and exhausted from their games. They’ll lay side by side on their backs, catching their breaths until one of them turns over and their eyes meet. And for a second they live inside a spell. Half-lidded stares soften like butter. And then they reach for each other. And then they do it slow, like time cannot breach into the bedroom. When they do it slow, Lance always says sweet things to him, gentle things he never heard growing up on his own.

It’s Keith’s favorite thing in the world, and it’s exactly the way he wanted to celebrate moving in. 

The next morning, he wakes up first, as usual. Lance is sprawled on his back, one leg hanging off the side of the bed. His hair is tousled and he has a bruise on his neck. Rolling onto his side to drape an arm over Lance’s waist, Keith tries to remember the day they met as vividly as he can. 

If he turns over Lance’s arm, he can find a small scar from the blackberry bush thorns. He remembers hearing only a voice first, charming and silly. He remembers standing next to Shiro, finally freeing Lance from his plant prison on the golf course, and then there he was. Scratched up to hell, nervously clutching Blue to his chest and asking him out on a date. 

Lance stirs, a hefty yawn pulling out of his mouth. He stretches, and Keith feels his muscles pull taut before settling around him as Lance tucks himself under Keith’s chin. “Morning.” His voice is groggy with sleep, lower than normal.

“Hey.”

Just as Keith gets ready to settle in for a long slow hour of morning snuggle time, Lance’s phone goes off, vibrating harshly against the nightstand. Keith rolls off him. Lance groans as he sits up, grabbing his phone and squinting at the caller ID. Suddenly his eyes fly wide open, wide awake. “Oh my god.”

“What is it?”

“Oh my god. Fuck! Okay.” He yanks the covers off him and gets up, thumb swiping to take the call as he paces out into the living room. By the time Keith has scrambled into his boxers to follow him, Lance is walking naked in circles, one hand carding anxiously through his hair. His eyes are wide and wild. Keith keeps staring at him, waiting for Lance to throw a reassuring glance his way or acknowledge how crazy he’s acting, but he can’t seem to stop staring at the ground. “Yes. Absolutely. Okay. Yes, I can do that. This...um.” Finally Lance looks up at him, biting his lip. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll send you an email. Okay. Great. Thank you so much.”

Lance hangs up and tosses his phone on the sofa, staring at Keith, buck-ass naked in their living room. He looks insane.

“What the hell was that?”

Lance swallows. He slaps both hands to the sides of his face and exhales. He gathers himself and strides up to Keith, grinning ear to ear. “ _ That  _ was Coran Smythe.” Keith gives him a blank look. “He’s an agent  – a manager  – for this really fucking stupid popular singer.”

“Okay?”

“They’re shooting a music video. They need dancers. I sent an audition tape a couple of months ago.”

Finally it clicks into place. Keith’s jaw drops. “You-? Then they want you to-?”

“Yeah!” Lance shakes him by the shoulders, laughing. “They want me to dance for ‘em!”

“Who’s the singer?”

“Romelle.”

Keith’s jaw just about hits the floor. Even a hermit grouch like him knows who  _ Romelle  _ is. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit!”

“HOLY SHIT!” they scream together. Lance pulls him into one of the tightest hugs he’s ever been in. He swings them around the room, and it’s another five minutes before Lance remembers that he’s naked.

 

…

 

The airport is quiet at 4:30 in the morning. The video shooting is on the other side of the country. Lance yawns next to him scrubbing at his eye. His suitcase drags behind him and Keith squeezes his hand tight. This will be the first time they’ve been apart for more than a week. And right after Keith’s moved in. They’re here early, so Keith lingers in the front area before the security check. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, trying to clamp down on the emerging loneliness in his chest.

“Remember Blue’s vet appointment next week?”

Keith nods. “You pack everything you need?”

“Yup. Think so.”

“Okay,” he says softly, looking down at their feet. 

“Hey.” Lance steps into his space, taking his chin in his fingertips and lifting his gaze. “I won’t be gone long.”

Keith grips his wrist. “I know.”

Lance’s tired eyes, still bleary from sleep, soften. He pulls Keith in, and by now they’ve kissed five hundred times or more: hello kisses, good morning kisses, see you tomorrow kisses. This is their first goodbye kiss, and knowing that makes Keith hold him there longer. He pays attention to the shape of Lance’s mouth, the angle of his jaw, the way their noses brush, the way he smells like soap. 

“We’ll call,” Lance whispers when they part. He knows Keith values his private time but hates to be alone. He can already tell that sitting in an empty apartment with their bed and their cat and their decorations will be a lot. 

Keith smiles. “I’ll see you in three weeks.”

 

…

 

“You’re moping.”

“Am not.” He is. It’s day six. He’s been hunched over his desk staring at the same crime statistics report for half an hour now. Shiro, of course, has noticed. He looks rumpled: his hair is a little wilder without Lance to remark on his bed head or remind him to put his clothes away before the wrinkles set in. Shiro looks at him and has a flashback to the pre-Lance days when Keith had near-constant bouts of insomnia and regularly came into work looking like a wreck. Keith can see the older brother instincts kicking into drive and he doesn’t have the energy to abate it. 

“No. You are.” Shiro yanks him up by the arm, ignoring Keith’s half-hearted protests. “Come on. Let’s go get lunch together. We can go to Hunk’s food truck.”

On the walk over, his phone beeps with a snapchat from Lance. It’s from inside the fancy studio he’s been learning the choreography in, captioned with: “Water break!” 

Keith sighs, wondering when he became so needy. It hasn’t even been a week and he’s slumping around like a heartbroken sloth. Shiro wraps an arm around his shoulders and guides them to Hunk’s line in the park. Hunk’s van is by far the nicest in the row, and Keith has since learned that it’s because Hunk has a degree in engineering and does all the maintenance himself. 

Hunk greets them brightly and only charges them half price, but Shiro dumps a hefty amount of cash into the tip jar anyway. Handing them their food, Hunk offers Keith a wry grin. “So. How’s temporary single life?”

Keith shrugs, starting to pick halfheartedly at his food. “Fine, I guess. Blue’s getting her vaccines updated tomorrow.”

Hunk puts down his spatula to gape. “Oh wow.”

“I know,” Shiro agrees.

“What?” Keith demands.

“Dude.” Hunk leans on his thick forearms over the counter. “This is sad.”

“ _ What?”  _ he repeats, getting irritated.

Shiro nods sagely. “It makes sense though. Adam and I had a pretty rough patch when he was at this residency program for sixth months and I was in the middle of sergeant training. We barely talked at all. Nearly split up for good by the end of it.”

Keith remembers that. Shiro had been depressed for months, and when Adam finally came back, Shiro was still spending long hours at work, getting night shift after night shift. At some point there had been a huge argument and Adam didn’t come back to the apartment for a week. They realized how much they missed each other and what they’d had before, so they spent a long time trying to fix everything up to adjust to the changes. They even went to therapy for a while.

It worked out, clearly, but Keith remembers the dark circles under Shiro’s eyes, how he threw himself into work with everything he had. It had been miserable to watch. 

Keith stares at his food, sudden terrible thoughts creeping in. What if Lance keeps getting these big offers? What if he becomes a permanent member of Romelle’s troupe? What if he’s constantly traveling all over the world to do concerts and gigs? What if Keith has to take night shifts again? What if they stop seeing each other and the same thing that happened to Shiro happens to them? Shiro and Adam had been together for nearly two years by the time they hit their big problems. It’s barely been nine months for him and Lance  – the relationship is too new to take that kind of strain.

What is he going to do if they break up? He can’t move back in with Shiro, not with Adam living there now. He’ll have to live alone, and if this week is any indication, Keith doesn’t handle loneliness well anymore. 

“Whoa, whoa, Keith. We’re kidding.” Keith doesn’t answer Hunk, still wrapped up in his dread, staring at his food. Hunk huffs and suddenly shuts the window of his food truck. He pops out of the back a second later, untying his apron and ushering them to a nearby picnic table. “Okay, man. Talk. This is more than missing the boyfriend stuff.”

Keith swallows and looks up and Hunk and Shiro, seated across from him with concerned frowns. “I just don’t want this to get messed up. I don’t want us to break up.”

“Hey, who said anything about breaking up, kiddo?” Shiro asks.

“Nobody. It’s just that…” He huffs, leaning over on his elbow. “There’s a lot that could go wrong and we could grow apart and I really want this to work. And I don’t think I’ve felt that way about a boyfriend before.” He takes a deep breath. “I guess I’m just starting to see all the things that could get in the way.”

“Dude.” Hunk starts, reaching across the table to grip Keith’s hand. “Take it from a worrier: You guys are good.” Keith opens his mouth but Hunk cuts him off. “I’ve known Lance for a long time, man. Trust me. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him seriously try to plan for the long-term with someone.”

It doesn’t settle all of Keith’s nerves, but he feels better. And after work, Hunk and Shiro burst into his empty apartment with drinks and snacks, ready to chase away the silence in the living room for a few hours. By the end of the night, they all crash on the couch, Keith leaning up against Shiro’s chest with his legs thrown over Hunk’s lap. 

 

…

 

“Romelle’s so cool, Keith. Like, she’s such a goofball and is just honestly really nice in person, which is great because there are all those horror stories about celebrities being awful in person, but she’s not!”

Keith leans back against the headboard, stroking Blue’s ears in his lap. He wears Lance’s shark t-shirt and blue hoodie, curled up on his side of the bed, which has been cold for seventeen days now. “That’s great. Do you start shooting soon?”

“Yeah, in a couple of days. Once we get going it should all be done pretty fast.” Keth pictures Lance, long limbs stretched luxuriously over a fancy hotel bed with room service and champagne. He’d definitely be wearing one of the fluffy bathrobes, utterly relaxed and having a wonderful time pursuing his career and being recognized for his talent. “Coran seems to really like me! He says he’ll keep me in mind for future gigs.”

Keith tries not to let it feel like a stab in the gut, like he’s losing Lance already. He knows he isn't. He knows that’s not what this is, but there’s something deep and primal in him that whiplashes violently. 

_ He’s going to leave. _

“Keith? Can you hear me?”

Jerking out of his head, Keith only realizes then that his eyes are starting to burn, and he hates how irrational he’s being. “Yeah, yeah. I can, um,” he stumbles. “You’re uh. Actually, you’re starting to break up a little so maybe we should just call later.”

“Is something wrong?” Shit he’s not buying it.

“No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up before Lance can answer, knowing that it’s the wrong move. He half expects Lance to try calling him back. When he doesn’t, Keith is relieved and disappointed at the same time. 

He spends the next hour flat on his back feeling stupid. They’re fine. They’re doing really well, there’s been absolutely no indication whatsoever that Lance is tired of him or anything. And Keith feels guilty for it all. He feels guilty and embarrassed because he thought he was over this stuff. Shiro’s been with him for years now. He has some friends and a job that he likes and he shouldn’t still be so fucking afraid of people leaving him. 

But he is. And he can’t make that go away. 

He’s too scared to answer Lance’ concerned texts or calls for the next two days.

 

…

 

There’s a heavy pounding at the apartment door. When Keith opens it, startled, Hunk barrels past him, phone pressed to his ear. “Yeah. I just got in. Here he is.” He thrusts the phone in Keith’s face, a scowl locked into place, and Keith can see Lance’s caller ID. “Talk.”

Keith sighs and takes the phone, disappearing into the privacy of the bedroom while Hunk waits in the kitchen. He at least has the decency to look apologetic as he retreats. He feels bad for roping Hunk into his personal drama.

Closing the door behind him, he leans against it and takes a deep breath. “Hi, Lance.”

“What the hell is going on?” Keith doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that Lance sounds more worried than angry. He opens his mouth to respond, but every word dies in his mouth. He doesn’t know how to explain his behavior. He doesn’t know how to apologize for it. “Keith?” He doesn’t know how to say any of this without looking like an idiot. “Do you…” he hears Lance take in a rattling breath, strained. “Is this your messed up way of telling me that you want to break up? Because this is  _ so  _ not cool.”

Keith reels. “No! No, I don’t! I promise that’s not it.”

“Then what’s going on with you? You’ve been ghosting me for days and it’s freaking me out.”

He slides down until he’s sitting up against the door. He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just…”

“What?”

“I’m just. God, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s got you so worked up.”

“It is though. I’m being stupid.”

Lance pauses, letting them both collect themselves. “Okay. Let me just get some things straight. You don’t want to break up?”

“ _ No. _ ”

“Did I do something?”

“No, of course not.”

“So...this is a you-thing?”

Keith hangs his head, ashamed. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” He bites his lip. “You should be enjoying yourself.”

“Alright. Hey, no, it’s okay. You were just worrying me, sweetheart.” Keith aches at the endearment - his favorite endearment. No one called him sweet before Lance. “Look. I have to finish this thing, but I’m coming back on Friday. Just pick me up at the airport and then we can talk about whatever this is all the way through. Okay?”

Something in his muscles loosens. “Okay. Yeah. I’m sorry. Okay.”

“Okay. It’ll be alright.” Lance whispers, so softly that for a moment it’s almost like he’s there, mouth pressed close to Keith’s ear. “I love you.”

“...I love you too.”

 

…

 

Keith grew up in the foster care system, which is the long and short of his many issues. Shiro was fresh out of police training and caught Keith trying to steal a car. He didn’t have a plan for selling it or anything, but people only ever reprimanded him and nobody talked to him and if he wanted to steal a fucking car he didn’t owe it to anybody  _ not _ to.

Shiro barely kept him out of the juvenile detention center. He barely kept him out of the Galra gang. He put time and effort into Keith, looked him in the eye when he spoke. 

One night, when Keith was sixteen, Shiro finally got him to talk about his parents. His dad was dead. His mother could be anywhere. Foster care sucked. School sucked. Not having friends sucked. Having anger issues sucked. Being alone sucked. When Keith was done and crying, Shiro pulled him into a tight hug.

It was the first hug he’d gotten in at least five years, and it only made Keith sob that much harder. 

Shiro was there for him from then on. And Keith slowly started to believe that he was getting better. He pulled his grades up. He graduated on time. He followed Shiro’s footsteps, went through training, earned his badge. Shiro was with him for all of it. And finally, Keith was proud of himself for something.

 

…

 

The last couple of days have only left Keith feeling more and more embarrassed. He waits near the baggage claim for Lance’s flight  – delayed an hour. He fidgets in his seat, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He still isn’t totally sure how to express his fears to Lance, or if doing so will be too clingy or needy and make Lance reconsider the relationship. 

The hour drags on until finally the plane lands. Keith stands up, urgently scanning the line of people exiting the terminal until he sees the familiar slight brown curl of Lance’s hair catch in the light. Keith doesn’t know what exactly he was expecting, but Lance breaks out of the crowd fast. He drops his luggage at his feet to pull Keith in tight with both arms, lips pressing to his temple. For a moment, Keith relaxes. The gavel doesn’t come down. 

“I missed you.”

“Me too.”

Before Keith can address the elephant in the room, Lance shushes him. They gather the luggage and pile into Lance’s car. Keith drives them home, the radio quietly humming between them. Once they merge onto the highway, Lance slips his hand into Keith’s like a question.  Keith squeezes it.

Blue is happy to see Lance. Keith puts his things away while Lance settles back in, petting Blue until she’s satisfied and returns to her kitty tower. When Keith comes out of their bedroom, Lance is sitting at their small dining table patiently in the dim light. Resigned, Keith takes the seat across from him.

Lance doesn’t beat around the bush. “What happened?”

Keith gathers himself, remembering the things Shiro talked about from therapy. Honesty. Clarity. Openness. Vulnerability. 

“I got scared, I think. Kinda spiraled and freaked out.”

Lance takes his hand and Keith starts talking. 

“I just started thinking about what could happen if we grow apart, if we start wanting different things like that. And then when you said Coran wanted you to do more of this stuff, like, I knew I wasn’t being logical but I couldn’t stop thinking about you being gone all the time until you just stopped coming back altogether. And you know how I grew up. People always left me. And I kind of couldn’t deal with it if it was you.” He hunches over himself because it’s easier to talk to the wood grain than it is to look at Lance.

Lance’s thumb gently swipes over his knuckles. When Keith finally looks up at him, his brows are slightly furrowed, tongue poking out between his lips as he sorts out his thoughts.  

“Keith,” he begins after a long minute. “I can’t promise you that nothing will ever happen to us. And I don’t think you’d buy it if I did. But I can tell you that right now, when I think of what I want in my life and my future, I’m always making room for you.” He reaches across the small table and brushes Keith’s hair behind his ear to look at him properly. “If Coran offers me another job, I’ll take it. But they’re only temporary, and we can get used to a little separation. Besides, I like my studio. I like teaching.”

Keith nods. “Okay. I know. My brain knows that.”

“So we just gotta work on getting the rest of you to know it too.”

“Mmhmm.”

Lance is exhausted from his flight, so they move into the bedroom. They tiredly rifle through their drawers, pulling on soft sleep-shirts and stripping down to their boxers. They brush their teeth together, taking turns spitting into the sink. 

Lance lays down and gently tugs on Keith’s hand to follow. All of the clinginess, neediness, and loneliness that’s built up for the past three weeks tightens in his chest. Keith slowly crawls on top of him, tangling their legs together, arms winding around Lance’s broad shoulders, both of them pressed tightly to each other. He digs his nose under Lance’s jawbone and finally sighs, the tension seeping out of him, warm from head to toe. 

Lance has one arm around his waist and the other in his hair, kneading his scalp and undoing tangles. “Missed you,” he whispers.

Keith holds him tighter. “Missed you too.” He feels Lance’s warmth through his shirt and he just wants to stay there as long as he can. But instead, he bites his lip and lifts his head to look Lance in the eye. “I want you to know that I really am proud of you. You did a really cool thing because you’re skilled and you work hard. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

“I know. And I don’t want you to feel insecure about how important you are to me.” He boops Keith’s nose. “We’ll work on it.”

“Yeah.”

 

…

 

Two months later, Keith walks into their apartment worn out from a crowd of drunk and disorderly that had taken two hours to process at the station. The second the door clicks shut behind him, Lance is racing from the kitchen, sliding dangerously on the hardwood floor in his socks. He crashes into the wall but doesn’t care. 

“Keith!”

“Lance,” he echoes, perplexed and staring at him with wide eyes. 

“C’mere, c’mere, c’mere!” He drags him to the sofa where his laptop is open on the coffee table, a youtube tab already open. “I wanted to wait until you got home but it’s been killing me.” He pulls the video up into fullscreen and slams the spacebar, clutching Keith’s elbow. “I’m second row left.”

Keith’s eyes widen. “Wait, is this...?”

Sure enough, Romelle bursts into view with the perky popstar flair she’s famous for. The music video begins, and before long she is joined by a stylish crew of dancers, Lance among them. They move in perfect synch around her, bright lights flaring out from the sides to sculpt their silhouettes. But Keith keeps his eyes on Lance, beaming and moving with that fluid grace Keith has seen him practice a thousand times in their living room and at his studio. 

When it’s done, Keith barely has the thought to look at the rising hit counter  – already in the millions. Millions of people have seen what Lance can do, and the thought makes him feel light and jittery with pride. 

“You did amazing,” he says, pulling Lance in for a soft kiss. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Lance squeezes his hand once more before they head into the kitchen for dinner. “Y’know,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Coran texted me last week and said they’re looking for someone to fill in for a shoot down in Belize. This one’s only gonna be for two weeks, so I was thinking you could come with?”

Keith smiles. “Nah, that's okay. I'll hold down the fort until you come home.” Lance looks proud of him then, reaching to draw him into a tight hug. Keith sinks into it, and knows that Lance will come back, always.  

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you liked this, please think about checking out our other works. There's more to this series and we also have two complete multichapter fics for klance. 
> 
> Thanks and have a lovely day!
> 
> P and M


End file.
